The Life of a Certain Onion and Marksmen
by TeaPotRabbit
Summary: A retelling of the story of a certain onion with the addition of a marksmen. Meet Seta Shinobu, tutor to the class we all know, friend to be of Negi Springfield, and known throughout the magical world as the Marksmen Magus. Hired to assist with Negi's responsibilities and the troubles of our favorite class of heroines. Will the ending to their story change for the better?


**Hello potential readers! This is my first fanfiction so I thought I would make it about the first manga I read. Sadly, I was pretty disappointed in the ending of it and thought to myself "Hey, I have free time. Why don't I take a stab at writing my own version." This is the result for a prologue. There will be a few differences from canon for the sake of things I'd like to change. The general plot though will stay the same for the moment. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. **

**For some background, there will be an OC for reasons explained in the chapter. I own nothing, but this OC and any OC's that follow. Ken Akamatsu has the honor of owning this franchise and the other characters. Though I hope he'll leave me his rights one day just so I can add that to my list of life accomplishments. The OC won't be overpowered at this point in the story by any means and will progress with the rest of the characters in terms of ability.**

**Quite a bit of my inspiration and ideas will probably come from Fate Zero and Fate Stay Night since I'm also really into that series. **

* * *

Ah, it's hot. Why is it hot?

Flames. That's why. It usually is why it's hot when you live in a world where mortal men and women had the abilities of demi-gods. It's never because the sun was out burning out all day. Never because you just wore too much clothing. That wasn't the kind of world they all lived in. People like that were the very reason why a ten year old boy was now trapped in a burning room. Whatever decorations were in the eastern style room were now caught in the blaze and there was no way to tell exactly had been there. Though, judging from the sealing array written in blood, it couldn't have been anything all that friendly.

The young boy laid in the middle of the sealing array, wearing only an over sized, white shirt. Blood was pouring from his arms as if someone had cut from the back of the hand all the way to the shoulder. He didn't care, he couldn't feel the pain from it. He was going to burn to death. He didn't care. He couldn't remember anything worth getting out of there for. What did he care about? That was the question that he asked himself. Obviously no answer came. What did he want? He wasn't sure. There was a feeling somewhere deep inside though. Something buried within that urged him to fight back against the situation. Was it a part of him that wanted to live?

As he thought about it, the feeling got stronger. Then, as if he had awakened from a dream, the boy quickly looked around the room. There had to be a way out. Of course there was a way out; just don't panic and run down the hallway in front of you, mind the flames though since they could hurt. Pfft, sarcasm made terrible pep talk for yourself. Next option. He could try his luck and break through the screens surrounding the room. The downside was that he didn't know what was on the other side besides more fire. Running down the hallway all of a sudden seemed like a better option.

_Down the hall it is. If I'm going to go through a fire, at least I'll be able to see where I'm going. _

Getting up to move was not a problem he had been thinking about though. He tried picking himself up only to find he couldn't. Looking down, the reality of his arms crashed down on him. Too much blood had been lost. Actually, more like the whole reality of the situation came down on him. Whatever had been holding back that fear and the irrationality of the situation completely snapped. He wasn't going anywhere and pure, human panic now had a tight grip on him. And the only thing that panic told him as it held him down was a simple message that all of that world understood: you're going to die here.

All he could do now was thrash as weakly as he could and cry. Why had he thought that there was nothing worth getting out for? Even the tainted air from the flames seemed incredibly precious now and memories of better times seemed so close to spilling over from behind a curtain of his mind.

He wanted to live.

He was most likely going to die.

It wasn't fair.

Life wasn't fair.

Too bad. Life can go get over itself and stop being a sore loser.

That last thought didn't come from the boy, but rather from the figure in a hooded, black coat that just stepped into the room. He ignored the flames and in turn they seemed to ignore him, shying away from him and creating a path to walk on. He was breathing deeply, as if he had just run a marathon and when he focused on the boy, he immediately ran to him. Without even a second thought to the blood or the circumstances, he picked the boy up and turned towards the hall.

"Damn it… I don't think he'll make it going the long way" The man cursed. He turned instead towards the back of the room. He nodded as if he had made his decision and adjusted his grip on the boy so he could extend his other arm towards it.

By now the boy was on the verge of losing consciousness again. The heat and smoke had begun to affect him as he continuously coughed. The blood loss seemed to be taking its toll as well. His vision was becoming hazy and he could barely hear anything except for the erratic thumping of his heart. Before he completely lost the fight against himself, he saw and heard something that would forever be burned into his mind. More than the heat of the flames and the engravings on his arms.

The wall the man had extended his hand towards crumbled as numerous concentrations of white flame exploded on contact with it. As the wall fell apart, the white flame began to devour the surrounding flames and pushed it back towards the hall and out of the room. The man looked down at the boy, blood trickled down from his nose and eyes.

"Don't worry. I will save you."

And so the boy lost consciousness. But, at the least he fell into his sleep with a smile on his face. Because of that he didn't hear what the man said next.

"Because you saved me."

* * *

**3 Years Later**

* * *

"Hey, Old Man," a boy with light brown hair said as he tried to get the attention of a middle aged, black haired man wearing a business suit. "Can you teach me magic?"

Both individuals were sitting outside a small café, plates of food and cups of tea in front of them. It was early morning and the sun warmed them just as much as the tea. They were the only ones outside at the moment with the exception of the odd person on the street across from them opening their own store and the café workers were all inside.

The older of the two raised an eyebrow, gray eyes moved from the newspaper he was reading to the boy wearing a white, hooded jacket and blue jeans. "Why?" he simply asked.

"I want to do the same work you did. Kids are supposed to look up and copy their parents right?" the child responded back, his amber eyes holding their own under the gray steel of the older man.

"No."

The man returned to reading the newspaper, his expression stone cold and troubled. A regular person would want nothing to do with anything that could be related to their trauma. A regular person would just want a normal life with normal happiness. Even after three years, the boy didn't seem to want any of that. Though this was the first time he had asked him to teach magic, it wasn't the first time he expressed interest in it. After all, who wouldn't at least express an interest in it? Especially when it's been carved into your arms. The boy would read through various tomes of magic and the theories behind it. Though nothing with spells in it as he made sure to leave nothing like that around.

The boy frowned at the answer he received. "Why not? You know I'll study real hard and won't disappoint you." There was a touch of desperateness in his voice.

"This isn't up for discussion. Now, eat your breakfast and get ready for the flight when we get back to the hotel room. My interview at the academy here went well so we need to head back home and pack up to move here. Japan really is a nice country." The man replied in a warmer voice.

"It's not exactly fair that you'll be teaching other kids how to use magic when you won't teach me…"

The man sighed. He knew that he was being a hypocrite from the boy's point of view. He put the newspaper down and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a moment of trying to think of what to do, a compromise came to mind. It was somewhat underhanded since he knew that even if the boy agreed, there would be little chance of him having any success. He let go of his nose and scratched the small amount of stubble he had. Better to let the boy believe he would be learning something than continue to outright deny him.

"Alright, alright… I'll make a deal with you. I'll let you take a look at any books I have on beginner magic. If after a year you've made some progress, then I'll let you go up a level. So and so forth. The catch is I won't teach you anything. You're on your own."

The boy looked like he was about to protest before the man cut him off.

"Take it or leave it."

A few minutes of silence passed between them. The boy was deep in thought, his face scrunched up in a frown as he finally picked up his fork and knife to eat the eggs in front of him.

"I'll do it, you cheap, old man. After all, with this chance, I can take the first step for my dream. I'll stop anyone that wants hurt people with magic.

"I won't let anyone else turn out like me."

The man winced at that. Maybe this is a bad idea.

* * *

**6 Years later**

* * *

"Hey, Old Man… How much longer do you have?"

The 19 year old and his father figure were sitting outside on the porch of the house they lived in. It overlooked a traditional, stone garden and a small pond. It was simple, yet the moonlight illuminated it in a way that made it transcended other more elaborate gardens. They both sat wearing light, blue robes with cups of tea besides them.

"It's not important. I just thought you should know. After all, with your progress in magic, you would've figured it out when it did happen. Though I still can't believe you actually managed to progress to the level of a standard graduate."

"Pfft, it's more embarrassing than anything. Six years and I'm at the level of an un-specialized graduate. How much you wanna bet that a ten year old could graduate and come out with two specializations with the effort it took me to get this good?" the boy said in attempt at humor. They both chuckled.

"Seriously though, is this why you didn't want to teach me? Because you're dying?" the boy asked slowly, disappointment and sadness fully apparent in his voice. "You know that's a pretty bad reason right?"

"I didn't want you to learn about magic from me because I knew I wouldn't be around to help you when you actually hit the hard the stuff. And I was right. Look at where you are after six years. Just when you're about to start to progress on your own towards higher levels, I'm about to kick the bucket," he said with morbid chuckle.

"There were some personal reasons too. If I sent you off to some academy, I wouldn't be able to see you. Even if I'm not your real father, I still feel like you're my real son. How could I not after all these years. If you left, these last few years would've been nothing but torture. You being here… it made it more bearable."

"Old man… Are you…?"

"Hey, there's something I want to ask you. Just this once…I want to ask it."

The man turned his head towards the boy. His gray eyes were glistening with tears that he wouldn't let out. They both knew now what was coming.

"Were you happy? I know I wasn't the best at taking care of you, even if you didn't seem to care. I was never great with kids and I never thought about having one in the first place. Was I a good father?"

"Yea… you were the best, Old Man. Were you happy with me? I know I'm a pretty stubborn brat and I gave you trouble with all those experiments I tried. I never even called you 'dad' or gave you that much respect. I treated you more like a friend or brother."

"Tch, brat. Of course I was. Weren't you listening at all for the past few minutes?" the man said as he put his hand into a pocket of the robe and took out a pack of cigarettes along with a lighter. He opened it and took out two of the white sticks and held one out for the boy. "If there's one thing I don't mind teaching you that'll hurt you, it's this. A real man smokes whenever something big happens."

The boy regarded the cancer stick for a moment before smirking. He extended his own hand and took it the cigarette from him. "You won't teach me how to be a demi-god in all but name, but you're okay with helping me get cancer? You're a great parent… Dad."

"Don't you read about mythology? Most demi-gods end up dying in pretty brutal ways. Compared to that, a little lung cancer can't be that bad. Look at me; not even going out from lung cancers. Occupational hazards are a bitch, remember that… Son."

The man lit his own cigarette and then passed the lighter to the boy who lit his. They both took a long drag and exhaled. Or rather the man exhaled and the boy started coughing. Light laughter followed at the boy's first cigarette.

"I have a question for you, Old Man. What did you want to do when you were where I am? Just getting your first steps in the world of magic, I mean." The boy asked with a serene expression.

"You want to succeed me? If that's what you're aiming for, then let me give you some advice along with the answer. I wanted to be the one to that would stand up to all the evils of the world. I guess you can say I wanted to be a hero. Just like you do now. But, I was wrong. It's not that I didn't want to help people, but it wasn't what I really wanted. I wanted someone to save me too. I kept throwing myself into battles and dangers because I desperately wanted someone to give me a purpose."

Though the boy's father figure spoke calmly, his eyes were shining with the emotions of the dream he held close to his heart. The purpose that had driven him to save people, to take lives of others that would threaten the innocent, and the long awaited reward that would come one day.

"…is that so?" the boy questioned, more to himself than the man besides him. "Did someone ever save you?" he asked, curious to know the answer from the man who resembled him so much as he took another drag from the cigarette. He suppressed the coughing this time.

"Tch, wouldn't you like to know" he teased the boy, also taking another drag from the stick in his hand. He closed his eyes and leaned slightly back.

"I have one last thing to say to you for tonight, brat. I know I said all those years ago that I wouldn't help you with magic. I changed my mind. In my desk drawer, the big one, you'll find a box with a seal array on it. In that is all the relevant material I could think of for you and the results of divination rituals I used on you when we first met. It'll open after tonight. It should help you with your magic studies. A parting gift from a lone father to the son that he thought he'd never have. Your inheritance."

The man opened his eyes and looked at the moon before exhaling deeply, his shoulders and back slumping as if he had just stopped struggling against something. "Promise me that when you go out there to save all those people, you won't forget about yourself. Don't wait like I did to realize what you really want. Don't say anything, I can see that you want to argue. I didn't really save you from that fire, you never really left it. As long as you keep throwing yourself into battles, it'll stay with you. Find someone that can save you." He closed his eyes again, a smile formed on his face.

"Like how you saved me, Seta. Make me proud."

"Yea, I will. Thanks for everything, Old Man. You can go rest now, I'll take it from here." the boy replied as tears began to fall from his eyes. It was time to say good-bye and yet it seemed like there were still so many things to talk about. Don't go. That was the one thought in the boy's mind at that moment.

That night, Alexander Vale died while giving his adopted son his inheritance and for the first time speaking like a father to him. Seta, honoring the dying wish of his adopted father, dedicated himself to the materials that were left to him along with using his father's contact in the Mage' Association to start working as a freelancer with them on missions. During these missions he would gain a title that would follow him for the rest of his life. Never missing the target, never relenting until the objective is complete, and never ignoring a chance to show off his skills: The Marksmen Magus.

* * *

**Two Years Later**

* * *

"I see. So he'll be coming here to fulfill his task? Yes, I see no problem with that. In fact, I know exactly which class he is best suited to teach. We'll be expecting him in few weeks then. Thank you, I'll be sure to give him your best."

In a spacious office, a man who looked as if he had surpassed old age to become a new life form had just finished speaking to a projection of another old man with a long beard who wore flowing robes and carried a staff as tall as he was. The projection faded as it gave the man a nod of gratitude. The remaining old man sighed contently.

He wore a traditional, Japanese outfit, somewhat similar to a shrine priest. His head was oddly shaped, yet that was to be expected from someone who had lived years while using magic. Sometimes it warped the user's body to better suit their style. He still had some hair tied back into a pony tail though it was pure white. His seemed to have his eyes closed, yet if someone looked closely they were slightly open. Though they would have to look past the flowing strands of his eyebrows first. The most normal feature on him was his beard.

Today was a happy day for him. Not only did he have an omiai set for his granddaughter that day as per his hobby, he had just assured that a child mage he had taken an interest in would be coming to his school to fulfill the task he had been given. Really, how could he not find the thought of a child coming to teach in an all girl's high school hilarious. How fitting that his son would come here; fate really did exist, he mused.

However, there would be some problems. Though nothing an ordinary person would bring up. Bringing a boy who would be in the middle of puberty to teach high school girls? Not a problem. The students would probably be ecstatic about it and the boy was too innocent for his own good apparently. Parent complainants? Not likely given how hectic things got around here and not a compliant so far. The boy's credentials? Magic can do so many useful things, especially when the boy in question was so advanced anyway. The real problem lay in who the boy's father was and how to deal with the troubles that were sure to come. One concerning a certain blonde for sure. Magic calls to magic and bringing in an awakened mage would surely be the catalyst needed to bring out the potential of the students of the class he would teach. Extra precautions would need to be taken.

As he pondered this question, he decided he'd need a second opinion. He turned towards an ornate phone on his desk and quickly turned the dials on it to call a trusted colleague.

"Ah, Takamichi-kun. Can you stop by for a moment? Yes, in my office. I have something I need to talk to you about. No, not about Asuna-chan. That's fine. I'll expect you in a few minutes."

Ten minutes later, a rough looking man in a suit walked into the office after being admitted. He wore a white suit with a black shirt and a red tie, giving off the aura of an approachable teacher. His hair was a light gray and matching eyes that shined behind square glasses. All in all, he seemed to be a likable person.

"What did you need, Dean-sensei?" He asked with a smile, his voice pleasant. He actually had a few admirers among some of the students; a certain redhead coming to mind for the old teacher in front of the man.

"Hai, Takamichi-kun. You see, a young friend of yours will be coming to teach here within a few weeks. I think you know who I'm talking about." There was only one person that Takamichi Takahata knew that could fit. His smile became more prominent.

"You mean Negi-kun? I knew he would graduate soon from his letters to me, but I didn't think the diploma would send him here. I have to admit that seeing the son of the Thousand Master grow will be something to look forward to."

"And that would be the problem in a way. We both know there's only class that I could possibly assign him to. Your class. The reason you could teach them without nudging any of their potentials out was that your magic technically isn't as potent as a normal mage. When Negi-kun arrives, it will mean the start of their growth. He'll also have his own problems with who his father is. In truth, it's as if we're lighting the fuse of a bomb attached to a minefield."

"Ah, I can see what you mean. And you want my opinion?" Takamichi asked.

"You know the boy. You know the students. What do you think we can do to ensure that when something happens, we won't be throwing them into a hopeless situation?" the Dean asked back in a serious tone. It was rare to see him like this.

"Well, Negi-kun has plenty of potential. He started to realize some of it in the academy, but he was more preoccupied with the graduation requirements. I'm sure he'll quickly get stronger here in between his classes. Even if we don't do anything, I'm sure it'll be fine. After all, a few of the students in his class have some experience and ability of their own."

"I'd rather not take any risks. Especially with my own granddaughter in the class."

"I know. Which is why the best thing I can suggest is that we bring in a third party."

"A third party?" The Dean asked with a slight frown. "Is that really a wise choice? We're already inviting several unknown factors with Negi-kun's arrival."

"I'm not saying we find just anyone. We need someone who has had experience in the situations that a mage can encounter, especially ones with bystanders. They need to have the potential and skills to back up that experience and be someone who has the willpower to stay and see things through." Takamichi elaborated. "Also, they should be someone who can fit in with the students and help them along with Negi-kun." He added as an afterthought.

"You mean an assistant? No one would question Negi-kun having someone to help him teach the class."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a tutor that the students could get help from. Negi-kun can more than handle the actual teaching, I'm certain of that. But, having someone offering extra help to the students would give Negi-kun more free time for his own studies. It also helps integrate our hypothetical tutor into the classroom as an independent from Negi-kun."

"Mmm." The Dean pondered what Takamichi had told him and nodded. It indeed would be better to have a tutor that would be separate from Negi during the actual class periods. It would test the boy's own skills and allow him to gain confidence. The tutor could stay for the classes to observe, but not interact. "Yes, I can see how this could work. It's an excellent idea. Do you have any recommendations?"

"Actually, there is one person I met just a few months ago that would be perfect. He's a bit vain, but he means well. Potential wise, he's much higher than me. Right now though, he's a bit rough on the edges. Negi would probably get along well with him. Dean-sensei, are you familiar with someone called the Marksmen Magus?"

The Dean's eyebrows rose slightly. Of course he had heard about the boy, Seta Shinobu. When he had first entered the coming and goings of the magic world, he was only at the level of an academy graduate. Within two short years, he had managed to build a reputation for himself based not on his power, but style of magic and morals. The only missions he took were the ones where taboo research was taking place or innocents were being threatened. He had a spotless record and never allowed a comrade to fall. Sure, his group would always come back beaten and bruised or worse, but they always came back. The only reason the Dean had not considered the boy without Takamichi was that he didn't know anything about him personally.

"I can vouch for him if need a recommendation, Dean-sensei." Takamichi continued.

"No, it's fine. I trust your judgment, Takamichi-kun. But, do you think he'll accept an assignment like this?"

"I'm certain. When I parted with him, he mentioned he'd like to take a break from all the current assignments that are open. If you explain the details, he'll probably come right away." Takamichi replied with a confidant smile. In truth, he was quite impressed with the boy when they had worked together on a mission to track down a necromancer who was pursuing true reincarnation by sacrificing humans. The boy had a flair for the dramatic while fighting, but made sure to take responsibility for it. When they had found the people imprisoned by the necromancer, the boy insisted that they leave behind two or three of their group to guard them and if need be escort them out in case of failure. He automatically volunteered himself as part of the group to make sure the necromancer was taken care of afterwards.

"Very well, Takamichi-kun. Could I ask you to contact him? If possible, I'd like him to be here a day before Negi-kun arrives. It would give him a day to get his bearings and let him and Negi-kun bond by being the new faculty members."

"Of course, Dean-sensei."

* * *

**A Few Hours Later**

* * *

Somewhere in hotel room in another country, a young man with brown hair that messily rested on his head awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. The familiar chords of a song he had heard many years ago came from the bedside table as he groggily reached for it.

"Hello?" He answered in english as he sat up on the white bed, his exposed torso and face the only visible things in the room due to the phone's light. It was late and the blinds on the windows didn't allow even the moonlight to intrude upon the room. A line of Japanese came from the phone. "Ah, sorry. Give me a minute, I just woke up." He said in Japanese this time. He stood up from the bed and walked over to an armchair next to the bed.

Taking a seat and a deep breath, he relaxed. "Yea, I just got through an assignment. Nothing too bad, except for the wards surrounding the target. Took most of my magic to break through, though the target didn't take nearly as much. One shot and he was down for the count, not more magic from him and the members of the association took him into custody."

A line of Japanese.

"No, I didn't kill him. There wasn't a need to in this case. Anyway, I appreciate you checking in on me Takahata-san, but is there something you need? It's pretty late and I'm exhausted. Oh, right. My bad, Takamichi." Takamichi insisted that after fighting together, that formalities could be overlooked.

More Japanese.

"You want me to what? You can't be seri- Wait, run that by me again. They're all potential gold mines of what? You're joking right? Why anyone pack a group like that together in a class? And they're all WHAT!? You want me to tutor a class at an all girl's school!? Oh, you're bringing in a fourteen year old boy to teach them, well doesn't that just make it all better. So much better in fact that I'm questioning your common sense. Wait, let me guess. He's something special too right? … Of course he's that man's son."

"Will you accept the position? I know you said you were looking for something new. I don't think you'll find a better match for something new than this." Takamichi said from the other end.

A sigh came from the boy's end. "You know, I really should just say no. I really, really should. You're basically asking me to help teach a room full of hormonally driven girls who have the potential to become top class in their own fields, combat or otherwise. You realize despite all the things I do, I'm still a guy right? But, the situation is too much for me to ignore. If I let this pass, then it could mean trouble for more than just a class and their soon to be teacher. Alright, I'll buy my ticket first thing in the morning and start getting what I need together. You better set me up with an apartment though. I absolutely refuse to be put in a student's room for the amusement and awkward situations. Anywhere close to the campus is fine."

"Ahaha…I'll be sure to mention that to the dean." Takamichi chuckled nervously from his end. The Dean did mention he was pondering putting the boy in his granddaughter's room. Try to get a decent man to be her fiance, he said or something like that. Though with this, the Dean would have to rethink his plan. Hopefully he wouldn't put Negi in that room. Getting back to Seta though, they had a few weeks so getting an apartment for him should be fine. "I'll see you in a few weeks, Seta-kun. I look forward to working with you again."

"Same here, Takamichi. Now, good night. I need to cherish what little peace I have left to myself."

That was among one of the last normal nights for Seta Shinobu, the Marksmen Magus. Though the coming days were sure to be interesting at the very least. Maybe even fun. These were the last thoughts going through Seta's mind before he fell back to sleep.

* * *

**And so my prologue draws to a close. You may have noticed that instead of being in middle school, the class of 2-A, soon to be 3-A, are in high school. This change actually isn't going to change much at all. All of the girls are going to have the same personalities and all that. The reason for this change is mostly because Seta is 21 years old by the time he got hired. 14-15 year olds crushing on and eventually having a relationship with a 21 year old guy seems too creepy even if all of the characters look like they're in their late teens. Even though that's exactly what Asuna does with her crush on Takamichi anyway...  
The moral is they'll all be 17-18 years old by the time they're considered 3-A. **

**This means Negi had to be bumped up 4 years too. Though I'm going to keep him just as innocent as he is in the manga. Not too surprising since he's a bit obsessive over his dream of finding his father and busy studying. His skill set is going to be the same as canon at this point too. We'll see how that changes.**

**Seta himself, well, we'll see how he turns out. I tried writing out his personality before I started writing, but couldn't really write what I wanted. I'll see how he develops over the story. Though I do have one or two possible pairings at the moment for him. **

**Until next time, readers!**


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